


Miracle Mile

by nolightss



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Formula One, M/M, Multi, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 13:42:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4181952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nolightss/pseuds/nolightss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Altair Ibn-L’Ahad doesn’t think when he drives.</p>
<p>He doesn’t think about risk or the voices over the radio, he doesn’t think about the other drivers around him. He just goes, and lets the adrenaline take him."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miracle Mile

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Rin [wellisntthatshiny](http://archiveofourown.org/users/wellisntthatshiny/profile/) for helping me brainstorm and generally being my partner in crime in this project!
> 
> I'll try to update as much as I can, though I have a lot of work outside of writing.

Altair Ibn-L’Ahad doesn’t think when he drives.

He doesn’t think about risk or the voices over the radio, he doesn’t think about the other drivers around him. He just goes, and lets the adrenaline take him.

It’s gotten him to this point so far, gotten him onto a good team with a good car and seventeen races into the season, onto the Bahrain track under the beating afternoon sun, which is exactly where he was hoping to be.

The two cars in front of him, however, were not where he’d hoped they’d be. Two abreast against the inside of the curve, leaving just enough of a gap to get through, just enough to pass both and take second position. He shifts gears, and goes.

The next thing Altair sees is the ceiling above a hospital bed.

His ears are still ringing and everything hurts but he can hear bustling around him, see an assortment of doctors crowded around something else in the room, obscuring Altair’s view of whatever it was. He settled back in his bed as a nurse approaches, giving him a look and adjusting the IV needle sticking out of his finger. 

All he wanted to do was get back in the car.

-

Malik wakes to a throbbing pain in his side, a splitting headache, and three doctors around his bed. He gives what he hopes is a glare, but with his current pain level, probably reads more as a grimace. 

The first of the doctors tells him that he’s been in an accident, the second tells him that there’s been some damage, and the third reaches for the blankets tucked at his left side and asks him if he’s prepared. He nods weakly, half expecting what he’s going to see.

The doctor pulls back the blankets to reveal his arm, or part of it, bandaged to the shoulder and ending just above the elbow. Malik swallows thickly, fixing his gaze on a spot on the wall ahead of him. He nods shortly when the doctor asks him if he’s alright, and they leave him be, and he doesn’t look away from the spot on the wall for awhile.

-

The second time Malik wakes, there’s a nurse changing the bandages snaking across his chest and arm. He watches her for a moment before clearing his throat, and she looks up suddenly, expression alert and attentive.

“Do you need anything?” She asks in accented tones, a small smile tugging at her mouth.

He shakes his head. 

“Is my brother alright?” He has vague memories of the crash, of lining up beside Kadar along turn three, but the memories dissipate and he can’t draw any real details from them.

The nurse’s face falls suddenly, and she looks down before answering. 

“I’d, uh, hoped I wouldn’t have to break this to you, but your brother-- well, he didn’t make it.” She finishes abruptly, dropping her hands at her sides, looking uncomfortable. 

Malik stares at her, and then closes his eyes.

No, no, it can’t be Kadar. Why him? Why not me?

He pushes the thoughts out of his head, but not before the tears come, before his fist is balled in the sheets and he’s saying Kadar’s name over and over, whispering them into the now empty room, curled in on himself and tugging at the bandages but the pain doesn’t mean anything if his brother isn’t here.


End file.
